Correspondence
by conclusivelead
Summary: Harry Potter recieves letters and learns the benefits of misunderstandings. "Dec. 1996. I am restless, yearning – I dislike admitting it, but I believe you have me tangled up tighter than I’d previously desired to admit." DRARRY/letters. DISCONTD UNTIL FU
1. Part One

CHAPTER STATS:  
_Word Count_: 1989 (including notes).  
_Letters from Draco_: 5.  
_Letters from Harry_: 3.

**s.t.b. says**: When I started writing this fic, I planned for it to be...maybe ten pages of letter between Draco and Harry. I'm not sure how it evolved into what it has become, but I get a feeling it's gonna be a long 'un. Prepare for several chapters/parts.

I know the format may be a little confusing for some, but it's written this way on purpose. I realized quite quickly into writing this fic that it was going to have to be different in order to stand out from the rest of the letter fics that have been written for this fandom.

The format I've chosen (five letters from Draco, and then Harry's five responses) I think makes for a more in depth reading experience, and I hope it makes people read everything more carefully. But whatever; the format will eventually be necessary for the story's suspense, so it can't be changed - sorry!

Comments are hugely appreciated!

- - - - - - - -

**A CORRESPONDENCE  
ONE - A Scene of Importance.**

Parchment is scattered across the ground. This is, naturally, the first thing that Ron Weasley notices when he enters the boy's dormitory, because it's not just a couple sheets of parchment, it's loads and loads of parchment. There has to be at least three hundred separate pages lying strewn across the room he and the other seventh year Gryffindors share. The parchment is centered, he observes, around his best mate Harry's bed and desk. Upon closer inspection, Ron is able to see that each page is filled from top to bottom with beautiful cursive, handwritten and painstakingly neat. At the top of each page is a date. Unable to control his curiosity, the redheaded boy sits down on the edge of the bed and picks up the page that has been placed, or maybe just ended up, on Harry's pillow.

It is dated December 28th of two years ago.

_December 28th, 1996_

_How have the holidays been treating you, Harry? Well I hope. My own holidays have been boring, filled with endless days and sleepless nights. I am restless, yearning – I dislike admitting it, but I do believe you have me tangled up tighter in your weave than I'd previously desired to admit. _

Ron is unable to read the rest of the letter; great, dark slashes have been marked across the subsequent sentences, hiding whatever they'd once said from view. Hugely curious, he casts a tentative spell but nothing happens.

For a moment, he just sits and stares at the crumpled paper in his hands. He'd always known that Harry received letters from people. More often than not, he is the one granted the task of hand delivering them, but these letters look unfamiliar. They had not been passed from Ron's hand to Harry's.

Ron shuffles through a few more nearby letters. The writing, the parchment, the tone – all are the same, which means that all of these letters are from the same person. Surprise and curiosity has the redhead in their grips. It takes him twenty minutes to gather all the letters together and then organize them into chronological order. Fighting the invasive feeling pinching at his gut, Ron begins to read.

**TWO - Original Letters 1 – 5.  
(LATE SEPTEMBER '96 – EARLY OCTOBER '96)**

_September 22nd, 1996_

You're looking a bit peaky lately, Harry Potter.

Summer was long, boring - like most summers, really. I saw you on the train. You looked exhausted, run down...you always look like that after a summer with your relatives.

Since first year, I've noticed the persistent exhaustion that seems to chase you down during those months that you aren't at school. It looked like it had finally caught up this time, Harry. Skin was drawn tightly across your face, mouth pursed, eyes sunken and surrounded by shadows. You were almost unrecognizable.

I wasn't sure then whether it was fortunate that I could never mistake your face, which reminds me of so much, or if it was a curse. I wished then, for the first time, that I didn't know you, that your sorry state (and it was sorry, Harry) didn't cause me such discomfort.

As the days pass, you become more and more revitalized, and the haunted shadows fade from your features, if only a little every day.

Even so, it is reassuring.

_September 23rd, 1996_

It's hard not to stare at you. Whether because I want to wring your bloody neck or simply hold you to me, I find myself bordering on obsession. If not already there. Your hair is always classically ruffled, such a deep shade of black that it would be almost insulting to call you brunette. Whenever you are concentrating especially hard, your eyes will squint behind those damnable glasses and you stick your tongue out from the corner of your mouth. You've no idea, of course, but it's completely and irrefutably seductive.

Class speeds by, and my time is occupied by staring and only staring. Luckily? unluckily? - I am discreet and you, being the oblivious boy you are, never notice. I doubt you ever will.

Don't bother to start looking for me now, because I've determined that I will stop being so obvious. Just in case I decide to send this after all.

The game has only just begun, and to have you win so easily - so soon - would ruin the fun.

_September 25th, 1996_

Oh, Potter, you can be so very dimwitted.

You looked anyway. Don't argue, either. I noticed you glancing about in class and even in the Great Hall. To no avail, Harry, to no avail.

You should learn to trust me. I wouldn't lie to you here, where it doesn't matter what you read, what you discover. Here, in this world of parchment and words and honesty, I can be a being similar to who I'd like to be, and nothing matters any more - choices are nonexistent; my mistakes, your childhood...they no longer tear away at what I have become. I don't have to think about what I can't say. I'm allowed to be me, to throw away the walls I've been forced to build.

I only expect you to listen. Just because I have decided to be brutally honest doesn't mean that you have to be the same, so don't act so nervous.

_September 30th, 1996_

Honesty makes you uncomfortable?

Too bad - deal with it. I'll continue with my letters, and you, being a curious being, if nothing else, will read them.

_October 5th, 1996_

Yes, that would be a waste of time.

Not to venture off-subject, but...I suppose it's time I actually started asking the question I want to ask. They are almost entirely the reason I started writing you, anyway.

Do you mourn the loss of a normal childhood, Harry? I often find myself looking back on my years as a child and noticing few differences between those times and these. But things must have been substantially more difficult for you. A cupboard? I'm surprised you didn't turn out more twisted than you did. How did you survive the hours spent in such a small space? Did it make you bitter? Are you bitter still?

You do such a good job hiding your darker emotions. I have difficulty figuring out whether or not you are angry sometimes. In fact, most of the time, your face is blank, expressionless, and I wonder what dark memory you could possibly be reliving.

**THREE – A Scene of Importance.**

Harry lowered the sheet of parchment slowly, eyes still scanning the last few lines of the most recent letter. "'...and I wonder what dark memory you could possibly be reliving.'" He was unsure what to think of this...correspondence that had sprung up between himself and this mystery writer. Emotions that were usually kept under wraps - anger, discomfort, confusion, surprise - seemed to be harder to control after receiving another letter.

The first one had confused and surprised him. The observations stated therein had left him numb. Hardly anyone else had noticed his state of mental health when he arrived back at Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione had seen their friend's withdrawn attitude, but didn't approach him about it and it went unmentioned. But this person who seemed to be writing him whenever the notion hit them...they saw things Harry was sure they shouldn't.

The first time he'd responded, two days after receiving the third letter, it had been on a whim. What the writer had said about 'brutal honesty' had struck a chord deep within him, and he'd penned a short response, stating only that honesty was so sparse these days that it caused him discomfort. The response had struck an even deeper chord in that it caused him to laugh. Whoever the penman was, he certainly was different than most of the people Harry spoke with.

And that, alone, is what convinced him to write again...and again and again. Until these letters stopped coming, Harry would continue in his responses.

**FOUR - Responses to Letters 1 - 5  
(LATE SEPTEMBER '96 TO EARLY OCTOBER '96)**

_September 22nd, 1996_

NO REPLY PENNED

_September 23rd, 1996_

NO REPLY PENNED

_Written on September 26th, 1996 in response to September 25th, 1996_

I don't get much honesty from people. It makes me uncomfortable.

_Written on October 1st, 1996 in response to September 30th, 1996_

Yeah, I am curious. And yes, I do read every letter. And if more are sent, I'll read those too. I need something to distract me every once in a while, and you are doing an odd, if effective job, of succeeding there.

Would it be a waste of time if I asked who you are?

_Written on October 6th, 1996 in response to October 5th, 1996_

A normal childhood. Hm. You know, I've never really thought about it.

I guess I should mourn the loss of something that most everybody gets to have, but then again, not much else in my life is something a normal person would ever experience. If I were to get angry about missing out on being a kid, then I'd just have to admit that I'm angry about a bunch of other things, too. I prefer, instead, to just take everything in stride. Or at least, I try to do that. Things have never really been simple in my life. Either I am fighting off attempts on my life or I'm waiting to fight off attempts on my life.

I do, though, feel that I had to grow up much more quickly than I should have. If I'm sorry over losing anything, it's the experiences that accompany childhood, not the loss of a childhood itself.

What of you? You say that you didn't have much of a childhood either. Why is that? Do you feel robbed?

I'm not trying to be vain when I say that I've received a lot of letters while at Hogwarts. Letters of admiration, of thanks. But they always come signed and sealed in an envelope decorated with the family colors or coat of arms or a simply return address. Your letters come by owl, and the owl is an unremarkable one from the school's owlery, so I have no idea how I'm supposed to figure out who the bloody hell you are. It's unfair, leaving no trace of an identity.

But then again, I suppose it's kind of nice, talking to someone without having to worry about who they are or what sort of hidden agenda they might have.

You don't have a hidden agenda, right?

**END OF PART ONE; TO BE CONTINUED.**


	2. Part Two

CHAPTER STATS:  
_Word Count_: 2017 (including notes).  
_Letters from Draco_: 10.  
_Letters from Harry_: 5.

**s.t.b. says**: Hey, thanks for the reviews, guys.

Boo on all of you that added me to Story/Author Alert and didn't review! I know who you are! Dx

But still, I'm glad for the readers. Thanks, everyone!

**A few quick notes**: During the Triwizard Tournament, there was no showdown with Voldemort; Cedric Diggory is still alive, and he and Harry shared the title as Champion of the Triwizard Tournament. Mad-Eye Moody really was DADA professor in fourth year, and the identity of the one who put Harry's name in the Goblet was never discovered.

Everything that happened in OOP never happened here, either. As far as we know, Voldemort has been silent since (considering he didn't show up in person in POA) the end of Harry's second year. That means that this story is canon until around...halfway through fourth year or so. (Please note that this means that there wasn't ever a tentative relationship between Harry and Cho. Let's just say that his crush never really resulted in anything, and he eventually got over his feelings for her.)

Well, that about covers it; if you find I've left any loose ends unexplained, do tell me so.

- - - - - - - -

**A CORRESPONDENCE  
****FIVE - Original Letters 6 – 10  
(EARLY OCTOBER '96 – EARLY NOVEMBER '96)**

_October 7th, 1996_

Hidden agenda, Harry? I'd be insulted, but I know too much about your past to mistake your caution for something else entirely. No, Potter, I've no hidden agenda, though I can see you would suspect so. I'm not doing this for any reason other my own enjoyment. And, well, perhaps for some personal vindication as well.

Unlike you and your little friends, I've always been one to follow the expected path. I like things to be orderly, neat, and...well, expected. I prefer to know what's going to happen at all times. And my parents are like this as well. They know before they ask anything of me what my response is going to be, just as I always know what they're going to ask in advance. I am NOT fond of surprises.

And you, Harry, are nothing but one big surprise. No matter the situation, no matter the people involved, you always do the expectedly unexpected. Whether it be defeating that basilisk during our second year (didn't THAT news spread like wildfire?), or putting your name in the Goblet of Fire (yes, I know, you plead innocence on that account). I just never know what you're going to do next.

And, unlike the usual surprises, yours always leave me feeling...well, surprised, instead of violated or betrayed. Which is nice.

_October 9th, 1996_

Ha ha, Potter. Way to entertain me.

Yes, I suppose I did give away quite a bit in my last letter. Now you know we're in the same year and that I don't like surprises and that I'm obsessed with order. But seriously. Cedric Diggory? Are you out of your mind? That one is so completely in love with that Ravenclaw girl. Chang-something-or-other.

If you're going to guess again, then you should make sure that the next poor wanker you decide to accuse isn't a heterosexual Hufflepuff.

_October 13th, 1996_

Wisely stated, Mr. Potter.

Ah, so we've finally broached the subject.

I've always been taught that sexuality is a very elastic thing, Harry, something that doesn't ever really settle unless you go through life expecting only to feel for one gender. I was raised in a household where relationships were open, attraction and lust were not limited to the opposite sex, and where my parents weren't private in their sex lives.

Thinking back on it, I really should have turned out a hell of a lot more twisted than I did, what with all the rampant sex going on at home. Somehow, I managed to stay sane and soldier through eleven years of my parents openly having sex with each other sometimes, and other people a lot more than sometimes.

Ah, I wish I could see the look on your face; shocked yet?

PS – my sources tell me that Mr. Diggory and Miss Chang have been seeing each other since the end of last year. They are the same year, you know, and they've been making cow eyes at each other for as long as I can remember, anyway.

_October 25th, 1996_

Yes, well. I didn't really expect anything less, Potter.

Most normal people would be surprised by the volatility of my home life. You seem to have taken it rather well, though, considering. But then again, you never really were normal. Doubt you could be if you wanted to.

I have to say I'm surprised that I didn't shock you nearly as much as I thought I would. Hmm, another surprise.

_November 3rd, 1996_

Oh, don't be offended.

And no, the whole reason these letters are sent anonymously, is because I wish to, and listen carefully now – remain anonymous.

It's nothing personal; just my sense of self-preservation, Harry.

**SIX - Responses to Letters 6 - 10  
(EARLY OCTOBER '96 TO EARLY NOVEMBER '96)**

_Written on October 8th, 1996 in response to October 7th, 1996_

Hermione is always telling me that I need to grow up and stop acting so selfishly. I think maybe she's just worried about me, but (and I've never told this to anyone) I would really like for her to just get off my back. In fact, I'd really love for everyone to just leave me alone for a while, instead of pretending everything is okay and watching me out of the corners of their eyes. It gets…frustrating? Humiliating? I don't even know what to call it, but it's almost like I'm never alone.

It's nice to hear that not everyone is always worried about me. And it's even better to know that you don't find my obnoxious tendency to get into trouble really all that obnoxious…leaves hope for the rest of the world, maybe.

Your letter was more revealing than I think you realize. So we're both sixth years; that much is obvious. And you don't like being surprised, but you don't mind my surprises so much. To tell you the truth, you don't really give me much to go on, but I think maybe I'm okay with that.

I wish I could figure out which house you're in; you don't sound like a Hufflepuff, but for all I know, you could be…Cedric Diggory.

_Written on October 11th, 1996 in response to October 9th, 1996_

A heterosexual Hufflepuff? Does this mean I should be accusing all the homosexual Hufflepuffs or just shirtlifters in general?

What am I saying; I don't really even know if you're a guy or a girl. But the way you write…I just don't think I can picture some teenage girl saying the things you say.

Also; Cho Chang and Cedric Diggory? Yeah, right. Where'd you hear THAT one?

_Written on October 15th, 1996 in response to October 13th, 1996_

Huh. I never would have guessed.

You know, your family sounds completely insane. What responsible parent goes around having wild, unrestrained sex where their children can hear?

But I suppose I can't really say anything about your family. Yours may be insane, but so is mine (or what's left of it is, anyway.)

Still, I'm not sure if I'm more uncomfortable with your parents' lack of inhibitions or your easy acceptance of their lack of inhibitions.

_Written on October 29st, 1996 in response to October 25th, 1996_

What do you mean I couldn't be normal if I wanted? I could be normal with the best of them.

This is driving me insane; who ARE you, anyway? It's like you know me better than even my best friends do. It's giving me reason for concern.

Are you absolutely certain that you want to be a mystery?

_Written on November 5th, 1996 in response to November 3rd, 1996_

I'm not offended, and I'm the last person to be judging others' sense of preservation.

You are rather being a spoilsport, though; would it KILL you to give me even a clue?

I can't continue writing to someone that doesn't have a name. What am I supposed to call you, anyway? You are nameless and it's starting to feel almost like I'm writing to myself; if I wanted to do that, I'd just start a journal.

So give me something, anything!

**SEVEN - Original Letters 11 – 15  
(EARLY NOVEMBER '96 – LATE NOVEMBER '96)**

_November 6th, 1996_

Oh, Harry. How completely and utterly hopeless you are.

_November 7th, 1996_

hopeless; **hope·less  
– adjective**

1. providing no hope; beyond optimism or hope; desperate: _the hopeless case at St. Mungo's. _

2. without hope; despairing: _hopeless grief. _

3. impossible to accomplish, solve, resolve, etc.: _Trying to balance_ _on this broomstick is hopeless. _

4. not able to learn or act, perform, or work as desired; inadequate for the purpose: _As a Quidditch player, you're hopeless._

Take your pick.

_November 10th, 1996_

Yes, I am always such a 'snarky bastard,' thank you very much.

I take great pleasure in my capability to say whatever I want, whenever I want.

I sounded much more like Snape just then than I ever would like to. Before you ask – no, I'm not Snape.

I say you are hopeless because no matter how many times I tell you that I'm not going to reveal my identity willingly, you persist in asking. Your persistence, though, is one of the things I admire about you, so I do try not to be such an ass about it.

Now that that's settled, more questions are in order.

First of all: Do you truly enjoy the company of your so-called friends? I see you almost every day, Harry, and can recall when their constant presence had you smiling just as constantly. These days, though, you seem almost reluctant to be amongst your peers, as though it pulls at your patience. Did something happen between you and them? I realize that perhaps this isn't exactly a question one would ask in proper etiquette, but it tears at my curiosity like nothing else; I insist that you respond accordingly, and with equal unreservedness.

Of course, I don't really expect you to answer, but I figure it's worth a shot anyway.

_November 25th, 1996_

Well, I must say, I was beginning to think you wouldn't ever reply, that'd I'd finally crossed a line that shouldn't be crossed.

It's understandable to grow annoyed with your friends, Potter. I find myself almost constantly annoyed with mine, so I can say with experience that it's a common occurrence, and that you shouldn't let it bother you nearly so much as it obviously does.

Really, Harry, you need to stop thinking like that; not everyone thinks of you only as the Hero of the Wizarding World, you know. I don't, anyway.

I was watching you yesterday in the Great Hall at dinner. You looked almost…pensive. Tell me, what were you thinking about? I don't think you said one word the entire meal.

_November 29th, 1996_

Yes, I watch you. I watch you more than I've even mentioned, and will continue to do so.

Did you know that when you smile, the left side of your mouth only goes up about half the distance that the right does? And that when you laugh, you laugh with your entire body…

I don't think you realize how completely enthralling you are.

PS – it's about time those two stopped making lamb's eyes at each other and just got on with it.

**END OF PART TWO; TO BE CONTINUED.**


	3. Part Three

**CHAPTER STATS:  
**_Word Count_: 2257 (including notes).  
_Letters from Draco: 10.  
Letters from Harry: 5._

**s.t.b. says**: Please note that soon this fanfiction's rating will be going up to R (M). I'm still deciding just how far I want to go with everything that's coming, so it's up in the air for now. I CAN tell you that eventually the rating WILL be R, but I'm not exactly sure when things will take a turn in that direction.

Thanks for everyone's reviews. Onward.

**EDIT** (5:30 PM, Sept 28, 08) : Okay, there were some major changes made to the letter sections of this chapter; I uploaded a version of the chapter that was not recent the first time, so ya'll will definitely want to go back and reread things.

**EIGHT - Responses to Letters 11 - 15  
(EARLY NOVEMBER '96 – EARLY DECEMBER '96)**

_Written on November 6th, 1996 in response to November 6th, 1996_

What the fuck do you mean, HOPELESS?

_Written on November 9th, 1996 in response to November 7th, 1996_

Ha ha, VERY FUNNY.

Tell me; are you always such a snarky bastard?

_Written on November 24th, 1996 in response to November 10th, 1996_

It took me a bit to decide whether or not I was going to answer the question in your previous letter. And then it took me even longer to decide whether I wanted to actually send that answer to you, hence the many days without a response.

And then the owl stopped showing up every day, so I had to go look in the owlery, which let me tell you…was not an easy task. I think I was up there for almost two hours before I finally recognized the owl you've been using. All in all, I had a very difficult time in writing and then getting this response to you, so I hope you take that into consideration.

Let me make things very, very clear: I LOVE my friends. I really don't know how I would have made it through the years here at Hogwarts, let alone all the confrontations with Voldemort, without them. Everything written in the Prophet after the showdown at the Ministry last year was blown way out of proportion; I did almost nothing. People seem to forget that I had friends there with me, willingly sacrificing their lives for what could have been nothing. And even more people seem to forget that these friends did more than their share of the fighting. Ron, Hermione, and the rest seem at times to understand me better than I myself do.

That said, they have a way of not understanding, too.

For instance, they'll never understand how incredibly scared I am all the time. And how completely angry I get when people think that I don't know how to be afraid. They see me like others do, just to a lesser degree; they can deny it all they want, but they'll never see me as just a normal bloke.

To everyone, whether I like it or not, I'll always be the Boy Who Lived – and it drives me completely mad.

_Written November 27th, 1996 in response to November 25th, 1996_

So. You watch me.

I should be surprised, I think, but I'm not. I'm sure you mentioned something like this in a previous letter, but I can't really recall what was said on the matter.

Maybe I should look more carefully when staring off into space at meals.

Friday…Friday…oh, wait. I remember.

Ron and Hermione have started to date. I really should have seen it coming, but we just haven't been as close as we used to be as of late. It came as a bit of a shock; I'd always thought they'd eventually end up like this, but I suppose I haven't really been paying enough attention.

_Written December 1st, 1996 in response to November 29th, 1996_

Enthralling is a bit fervent, I think. More like fumbling…confused…trying so hard that it makes me insane.

Those adjectives feel a bit more fitting.

I really don't know what to say to this; I'm confused by you and your words and by you watching me, as though I will look back deserve to be watched.

**NINE – A Scene of Importance.**

Harry turned into the hallway, seeking solitude and a place to think.

The last letter he'd received from his anonymous 'pen pal' had sent his emotions spinning into a whorl of confusion, hesitancy, and something else he couldn't quite place.

Harry knew that people watched him. In fact, he was used to being stared at on a regular basis; it sort of came with being Harry Potter, he guessed. It had bothered him for a year or so, but he'd soon grown used to the unwanted attention and learned to ignore it.

But he'd never had to deal with something like this; he had grown accustomed to being able to stare right back at his watchers. To know that there was someone watching him, taking pleasure at his presence…but that he couldn't see them back, or worse, that he could see them but didn't know…

He wasn't making any sense, even in his head. Harry crossed the stones and made his way into the courtyard, banishing his thoughts ineffectively.

Intending to make his way to the benches past the nearest wall, Harry approached the edge of the building, but stopped in his tracks at the sight that met him just as he rounded the corner. Draco Malfoy sat on his anticipated bench, scribbling away furiously at a piece of parchment, an odd look on his face. A school owl sat just behind him on the steel back of the bench, preening and continually ignoring the blond Slytherin it waited on.

Dark ink stained the other boy's fingers, which gripped a quill that moved furiously across the parchment in his lap. For a moment, Harry simply stood and stared, confused by the strange, niggling feeling in the back on his mind; it was as though his head was trying to tell him something the rest of his body just couldn't quite understand.

Unwilling to start any conflict just then, especially when his mind was so heavily preoccupied with more important matters, Harry decided to just leave the blond to his letter.

The parchment that had been held so firmly against Draco's thigh slipped a bit as Harry turned and left the courtyard, flashing the words "holidays will be starting in a few weeks, Harry" to the rest of the world, before the blond absentmindedly smoothed the parchment flat once more.

**TEN - Letters 16 - 20  
(EARLY DECEMBER '96 – LATE DECEMBER '96)**

_December 3rd, 1996_

Fervent it is, but not untrue.

I wish you knew just how much I really stare. So the holidays will be starting in a few weeks, Harry. Do you plan on staying here once more or do you return to the dreaded relatives?

In hindsight, I don't think you've ever not stayed at the castle for a holiday; but then again, I'm not really an expert, seeing as I've never not gone home at Christmas.

_December 5th, 1996_

Excited is not exactly the word I'd have chosen, Harry.

I love my family – don't get me wrong. Lately, however, their expectations have become…impossible. They want things for me that I definitely don't; our dreams for my future, once so in sync, are now completely different.

But I'd rather not dwell on my parents' expectations; what are you planning on doing at Hogwarts while everyone else is away?

Something that would be delightfully interesting to recap in a letter, I hope.

_December 11th, 1996_

I hate to venture off subject, but I just must bring up the…occurrence (?) at the last Quidditch match. Just what, exactly, was going on there, Harry?

I can understand getting distracted in all the boredom. If the Quaffle had been throwing a fit for more than an hour, I'd be doing a bit of my own daydreaming. But really, Potter, just where was your head? Didn't you hear the whistle blow? Didn't you realize that the game had begun? To lose a game (and to Hufflepuff, for Merlin's sake!) because you didn't notice that the game had started is rather, and I'll not mince words with you, pathetic.

…Hufflepuff, Harry!

_December 13th, 1996_

No, Potter, I'm not a Hufflepuff. I'd sooner be a toad.

And this recent spawn of inactivity on Malfoy's part just may be a reformation in character; you never know.

Maybe he's changed.

Perhaps the reason you feel so enraged lost confused is because you're so unwilling to see change in other people.

Despite what you may think, Harry, you're not the only person who has gone through transformation of character; I, myself, find that I am almost a completely different person compared to the child who attended Hogwarts last year.

We are at the stage of our lives where everyone is changing and assumptions can only get us in trouble. I suggest opening your mind to the possibility (and inevitability) of change.

_December 20th, 1996_

I'm glad you've decided to give him a chance.

You never know, he may be as open to peace as you are.

**ELEVEN - Responses to Letters 16 - 20  
(EARLY DECEMBER '96 – LATE DECEMBER '96)**

_Written on December 4th, 1996 in response to December 3rd, 1996_

Fortunately for me, Dumbledore allows me to stay at the castle during winter holiday. You're right, by the way – I've never gone back to the Dursleys at Christmas. It's bad enough having to leave for the summer.

Are you excited to be seeing your family in a couple of weeks?

_Written on December 10th, 1996 in response to December 5th, 1996_

Unfortunately, I get the feeling that this holiday is going to be pretty unremarkable.

Ron and Hermione have decided that they're both going home (to their own families, respectively!) for Christmas. They each of 'em offered me a place for the break, but I turned them down. For some reason or other, I'm just not up to a few weeks with either the Weasleys or the Grangers.

On the one hand, we have my favorite people in the world: red-headed, wild, loud, and practically MY family as well as Ron's. I know that if I decide to spend Christmas at the Burrow, things will be a never-ending whorl of fun and untamed. But I'm not really up to it now…I'd rather things be calm for once, for that craziness to just stop for a while – which means Christmas with Ron's family is out.

On the other hand, we have the Grangers: a respectable Muggle family with a grandiose love for dentistry (the way Muggles take care of their teeth.) To spend Christmas with Hermione's family would definitely be calm, but I've never really met her parents before, and I get the feeling that despite everything 'Mione might do, I'd be pretty uncomfortable. Holidays with the Grangers? Definitely out.

So my only option is to stay here at school, and hope for a comfortable, quiet holiday alone.

_Written on December 12th, 1996 in response to December 11th, 1996_

Oh shove off! I've just been so out of sorts lately; I'm not really sure what's going on. It's hard to pay attention in classes, to my friends, during games…

I think it's all got something to do with the odd behavior of a certain Slytherin as of late. I'm not sure if you know who I'm talking about, or perhaps you've heard of the…tense…situation between Draco Malfoy and me. Well, maybe tense isn't really fitting – I hate the bugger. He's the biggest wanker in the school, and he usually loves to take every available moment to make sure that I never forget it.

Lately, though, he's been acting almost…civil.

Not that I'm really even sure Malfoy knows HOW to be civil, but he's certainly acting quite different. Would-be confrontations are instead turned into dismissals of my very presence; I'm not certain if I'm happy with this turn of events, or if I'm disappointed.

And it's not just ME that he no longer torments; I don't think I've seen him spurn a Gryffindor or start a fight with anyone in at least a month (AT THE VERY LEAST.)

I think he's plotting something.

PS – So you're not in Hufflepuff, evidently.

_Written on December 15th, 1996 in response to December 13th, 1996_

After being in school together for five years, I've come to believe it impossible for Draco Malfoy to change in any way, shape, or form.

You're probably right. My brain understands that it's very possible for Malfoy to change, but my logic is refusing to agree. Maybe I should give the prat another chance…maybe.

_Written on December 21st, 1996 in response to December 20th, 1996_

I think it's probably better that I at least wait to see what happens before I jump to any conclusions. Thanks for keeping me straight.

So holidays start tomorrow; will you continue to write or should we wait?

**END OF PART THREE; TO BE CONTINUED.**


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